


Get Lucky

by rendawnie



Category: Pentagon (Korean Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Clubbing, Dancing, Domestic, Drinking, Flirting, Flirting via Shakespeare, Fluff, Friendship, Gay Bar, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Open Relationships, References to Shakespeare, Shakespeare Quotations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 07:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9710501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rendawnie/pseuds/rendawnie
Summary: The music was thumping, always thumping and slamming off the walls and back into the bodies on the dance floor, and Hongseok remembered now why he’d grown to dislike clubbing. It was the sensory overload. He’d been a club kid long enough to meet Shinwon, and then he’d gracefully bowed out of the lifestyle. He didn’t miss it. But he knew Shinwon did, and so here they were.





	

Staring at the dozen or so candles lined up on the coffee table in front of him, Hongseok let out a long, world-weary sigh. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, licking his lips.

“Do you think,” he began, voice barely loud enough to carry across the house into the bathroom, “do you ever think that maybe, sometimes, possibly...we have too many candles?” he pondered, almost to himself, although knowing Shinwon, he was already expecting a response.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Hongseok heard the blow dryer shutting off, followed by the light thumping of Shinwon’s bare feet as they carried him down the hall and to the doorway of the living room.

He was only wearing a towel when he arrived, slung low on his hips, still covered with droplets of water that had started in his hair and dripped onto his chest. Hongseok didn’t look up. He didn’t have to, to know that his boyfriend was furrowing his brow and leaning against the doorframe, frowning with confusion and displeasure.

“I don’t understand the question,” Shinwon replied, and Hongseok snorted, not bothering to actually form words to respond with. He figured it wasn’t exactly necessary.

“Candles,” Shinwon went on, just like Hongseok knew he would, “ _make_ the home. Candles are cozy, and comforting, and welcoming, and...what are you doing?”

Hongseok glanced up in the vague direction of the doorway, lighter still between his fingers after he’d lit the sixth candle in the neat little row in the center of the coffee table. He shrugged. “Finding comfort?”

Shinwon rolled his eyes. “If you need comfort, I have an impossibly broad pair of shoulders, attached to arms which I sometimes use to hug you. Don’t waste the candles, I paid two hundred thirty thousand won for the set.”

Hongseok made a noise that was somewhere between a groan and a humorless laugh, and ended up more aghast than either. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You paid that much for wax?” he muttered, blowing out the candles quickly.

Shinwon gave a low chuckle. “The cost of being classy, babe. Also, you look hot in that shirt,” he tossed over his shoulder as he turned to go back to the bathroom, signaling the end of any and all discussion on this topic. Hongseok tried to continue on his chosen path of endlessly put-upon apathy, but as always when his boyfriend gave him compliments out of nowhere, he found he couldn’t. He was too busy blushing and trying not to grin.

He glanced down at his white linen shirt, smoothing his hands over the thin fabric in a vain attempt to rid it of wrinkles. Totally futile. Hongseok heard the blow dryer shut off again down the hall. He cleared his throat, raising his voice a second time.

“I don’t even understand the point of White Parties. What purpose do they serve? Is there a charity? Are we wearing white to support endangered poodles? What is it?” Hongseok wondered aloud, letting his head hit the back of the couch as he slumped down and put his feet up on the coffee table. Shinwon couldn’t see him do it, after all. He might as well take advantage of a chance like this.

“Of course there’s a charity,” Shinwon called. “But also, they serve the purpose of getting a bunch of hot dudes together in one room, all dressed in ridiculously lightweight clothing that makes our skin look magnificent and giving us an excuse to get all up on each other in said lightweight clothing. Get your feet off the coffee table, I can hear you breaking the rules,” Shinwon added, amusement in his tone.

Hongseok rolled his eyes, but complied. Their relationship had spanned nearly three years, in many different permutations before they'd settled into domestic bliss, and somehow, Shinwon always knew when Hongseok was misbehaving, even the slightest bit.

“I’m just tired,” Hongseok whined. “School sucked today. These kids don’t have any appreciation for the Classics. For literature, in general. I’m trying my best to teach them, but they just...don’t want to get it. They don’t want to let the poetry of Chaucer seep into their pores and change their lives.”

Down the hall, Shinwon giggled. “Babe, I don’t think I want _anyone’s_ poetry to seep into my pores. I prefer them to remain unclogged and pristine.”

Hongseok groaned again. “Remind me why I’m dating you?” he asked, putting his feet up one more time.

When Shinwon stuck his head through the doorway a minute later, followed by his entire lanky person, he was dressed and ready to go, and Hongseok suddenly remembered a lot of the reasons they were together before Shinwon even had a chance to remind him.

Shinwon gave him a sly little grin, crossing the room in five steps and settling himself on Hongseok’s lap, right after he subtly knocked Hongseok’s legs off the coffee table and back onto the floor where they belonged. Hongseok thought about complaining. He really did. But then Shinwon’s arms were looping around his neck and he was leaning close and wearing Hongseok’s favorite cologne, and he forgot every complaint he’d ever had, and probably some he’d have in the future, too.

Shinwon was licking at Hongseok’s earlobe when he replied, and Hongseok made a valiant effort not to show how incredibly weak it was making him.

“You’re dating me for many, many reasons. One, my impeccable sense of fashion means you look like a goddamn model every time you leave the house now. Two, my stupidly expensive candle choices are secretly your favorite. And three…” Shinwon murmured, ghosting his lips over Hongseok’s jawline as Hongseok’s grip on his backside tightened, “Yeah. That ass.”

Hongseok chuckled. “What ass?” he rumbled back, squeezing it anyway. “Your side view’s a sheet of paper, sweetheart.”

Shinwon pulled back a fraction, mouth hung open in mock dismay. “Don’t play games with me, Yang Hongseok. I have the power to make sure you never get laid again. Or at least, for the rest of the week,” he amended, a little blush sweeping over his cheeks.

Hongseok tried not to make smile too victorious. “I’d like to see you try,” he remarked, pushing Shinwon off his lap and getting up from the couch to find his keys.

*

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Hongseok was aware that he spent the entire drive to Lucky’s ranting and rambling about his day at work, and that Shinwon was being nice enough to let him. He didn’t _like_ complaining this much. He was just overworked. Burnt out, maybe. Maybe Shinwon was right, and a party was exactly what they needed. They didn’t go out as often anymore, really, and it was mostly Hongseok’s fault. If Shinwon had his choice, they’d stay out every night until the wee hours and never sleep, but Hongseok’s grown up job as a teacher didn’t allow it.

“I just want them to understand the values in a piece like _Much Ado About Nothing,_ y’know? There’s a lot to be learned, there. Never settle. Hold out for someone who’s really going to _get_ you, like Beatrice does. That sort of thing. And they just...they don’t want to get it, Shinwon. They’re not there yet, maturity-wise,” Hongseok muttered dejectedly, guiding their SUV into an empty parking space as Shinwon nodded placatingly.

“I know, honey. But, I know _you,_ too. You have so much passion for this stuff. Just keep trying. They’ll get there, okay?” Shinwon said, patting Hongseok’s knee with a nod. Hongseok smiled a little, putting the car in park. He blew out a gush of air, feeling it ruffle the hairstyle Shinwon had spent fifteen minutes crafting on top of his head. Thankfully, Shinwon didn’t mention it.

Hongseok gazed at his boyfriend. “And what are you, the retired go-go boy, passionate about, hmm? Overpriced home decor aside,” he jabbed, readily accepting the light slap on his arm that comment earned him.

Shinwon laughed a little. “I’m only retired because this place was too small for a big talent like me,” he said with a wink in his voice, gesturing to the facade of Lucky’s in front of them. It was lit up to a ridiculous degree, twinkling white lights twirled around every corner of the building and through every bush and tree surrounding it, two bright spotlights aimed at the open double doors and shining on a giant sign that screamed “WHITE PARTY TONIGHT!!!” Hongseok felt even more tired just looking at it, but he was going to get through this. For Shinwon. And maybe a little for himself.

He turned back to Shinwon, grinning. “You’re retired because your knee gave out at the ripe old age of twenty, and also because you were the worst go-go boy of all time. You can’t dance for shit,” Hongseok reminded his boyfriend, getting out of the car before he could be subjected to any more physical abuse for his snark, this evening.

Predictably, Shinwon wasn’t done with the conversation. He was waiting for Hongseok when he finally made his way around the vehicle to the passenger side to open the door for Shinwon, and he somehow managed to disembark with his arms already crossed, his feet connecting with the pavement next to Hongseok as he scowled.

“I was not the _worst,_ thank you very much. I did okay for myself. I just happen to be more suited to a life of domestic house-husband leisure, boyfriend of mine,” Shinwon pouted, and Hongseok tugged at his arms until he gave up and uncrossed them, letting their fingers clasp together easily, like they always did. Hongseok gave Shinwon a kiss on the cheek, pulling him in the direction of the door of Lucky’s. He didn’t reply to Shinwon’s last statement, because neither of them needed an answer to something so completely true.

Wooseok was working the door, as usual. He’d been campaigning for months to be allowed a position inside the club, but Jinho and Hwitaek continued to refuse his efforts, at least until he was no longer underage and in danger of getting them into more trouble than they generally preferred. As Hongseok and Shinwon approached, Wooseok broke out into a wide smile.

“Hey, guys. Didn’t think you could stay out so late on a school night,” Wooseok said jovially, arching an eyebrow in Hongseok’s direction. Shinwon giggled, and Hongseok rolled his eyes.

“I took a personal day tomorrow. And also? Pot? This is kettle calling. You’re black,” Hongseok retorted. Shinwon giggled louder.

Wooseok snorted. “Hilarious. You’re hilarious.”

Shinwon was already craning his neck, trying to see inside, trying to filter through the mass of bodies and pick out the ones he knew. “Who’s here, Wooseokkie?” Shinwon asked a moment later, giving up.

Wooseok shrugged. “Dunno. A few people. Lots of new faces in there tonight. Some Chinese kid that no one can get over, but he doesn’t seem interested in any of them. Seems kinda shy, actually. He’s just been standing in the corner watching Hyunggu.”

Hongseok smirked. “So, are you still bitter that Hyunggu is like five minutes older than you, and yet he’s allowed in there, dancing to his heart and bank account’s content?” he questioned, and Wooseok frowned.

“ _No._ I mean, yeah, a little. But I can’t dance, so I guess I have to take what I can get, right?” He sighed, thinking. “Maybe Hwitaek would let me work behind the bar. I should ask.”

Shinwon smiled, patting Wooseok on the back. “I’ll put in a good word for you, kid.”

Wooseok brightened immediately. “Thanks, Shinwon. You guys have fun. Come see me after awhile, it gets boring out here.”

Hongseok nodded. “Sure. We’ll be back,” he promised, knowing they probably wouldn’t, not for a very long time, if Shinwon got his way. Wooseok waved them in without a cover charge, and Hongseok braced himself for the wall of sound he was about to be confronted with.

*

Once they stumbled their way past the wall of smoke coming from the twenty or so machines that were always running during events here, Hongseok could see better. What he couldn’t do, to any degree, was hear. The music was thumping, always thumping and slamming off the walls and back into the bodies on the dance floor, and Hongseok remembered now why he’d grown to dislike clubbing. It was the sensory overload. He’d been a club kid long enough to meet Shinwon, and then he’d gracefully bowed out of the lifestyle. He didn’t miss it. But he knew Shinwon did, and so here they were.

Here they were, in the cavernous main room of Lucky’s. No matter how much time passed, it was always the same old place. Bar on one wall, bathrooms on the other, and in between, enough dance floor for two hundred people to inhabit all at once. All the booths that were peppered around the edges were full to bursting, patrons shouting to each other over the booming bass of whatever hideous techno Changgu was rocking out to, up there in the DJ booth. Hongseok glanced around, and in short order he spotted both Hwitaek and Jinho, co-owners of this place and childhood best friends.

They were talking to Yuto, who was also only about five minutes older than Wooseok, but continually allowed in as well, mostly because his chiseled good looks and icy demeanor (at least, it was icy to those who didn’t know him well) made him one of the hottest commodities Lucky’s could boast. He and Hyunggu were the resident go-go boys, and they brought in a good chunk of the cash that contributed to the overall success of Lucky’s, so they could stay.

Hongseok watched as Yuto hopped back onto his pedestal, across the room from Hyunggu’s. They were both good dancers, and good go-go boys. Fleetingly, Hongseok wondered if being here made Shinwon more wistful than he let on, more jealous. More regretful of what he’d had to give up. He looked over at his boyfriend, standing next to him and squeezing Hongseok’s hand a little tighter than he had been before. Hongseok could see how hard he was trying not to make this into a sad thing, suddenly. It happened every time they came back here, to this place, but Hongseok was determined not to let it get too far tonight.

He gave Shinwon’s hand a little shake, startling his boyfriend out of his thoughts and making him glance at Hongseok, eyebrows raised in a silent question. Hongseok leaned over to whisper (well, _yell_ ) in his ear.

“Want a drink?”

Shinwon nodded gratefully, and just as Hongseok was stepping away from him to make his way to the bar, he heard Changgu’s voice blaring excitedly into the microphone set up in the booth with him.

“Gentlemen and gentlemen, we have a very honored guest with us tonight! Does anyone remember Shinwon, the best damn go-go boy this place has ever seen??”

He was really shining it on. Hongseok appreciated it. And honestly, Shinwon _had_ been good at his job, when he was still doing it. He excelled at the parts that were more flirting, and less dancing. Now, Shinwon was blinking into the spotlight that suddenly covered him from above, smiling his megawatt smile, the one that made his eyes disappear and Hongseok’s heart skip all the beats, and the crowd was cheering and Hongseok slipped away after a moment, to let him enjoy it.

Hwitaek had taken his usual place behind the bar, and he gave Hongseok a warm smile as he slid onto a barstool.

“The usual?”

Hongseok gave him a quick nod, and Hwitaek busied himself making an extra large Adios, Motherfucker, but he glanced up at Hongseok as he mixed liquors togther in a cocktail shaker. Hwitaek grinned a little, tilting his head towards the dance floor, where Shinwon was still accepting hugs and ass slaps from old friends and admirers. Hongseok watched a little proudly, letting Hwitaek’s soft voice float into his ear.

“He looks happy.”

Hongseok hummed in response. “I think he is. We are,” he answered, taking his drink from Hwitaek and sipping it carefully. He always ordered these, because it basically ensured that he’d only have to order one drink to get him to the point in his buzz he enjoyed staying at. It was cheap. Hongseok was nothing if not a cheap date, except that he tended to be the one paying for the dates, these days. He didn’t mind.

Hwitaek wiped down the counter with a rag. “I’m glad. I like you two together. Always have.”

Hongseok blushed a little. “So who’s the foreigner everyone’s going nuts over?” he questioned, and Hwitaek chuckled.

“I don’t know, man. I haven’t tried to talk to him. He looks compromised enough, with the way everyone’s fawning all over him. Changgu’s tried to put his hand down his pants twice. I thought he was gonna end up with one less appendage, the second time. Kid doesn’t fuck around,” Hwitaek finished, laughing harder. Hongseok laughed too. He could feel the alcohol loosening him up, could feel the way it made everything just a little warmer. He glanced down, unbuttoning a couple buttons on his linen shirt as Hwitaek watched, amusement on his face.

When Hongseok looked up again, Hwitaek was grinning. “Showing off for the new boys, eh?” Hongseok rolled his eyes.

“No, you dick. It’s hot in here. Why is it always so hot in here?” he asked, even though he already knew the answer Hwitaek proceeded to give him.

“We do it on purpose. Less clothes, less inhibitions. More fun,” he replied, winking at Hongseok, and Hongseok grimaced.

“Truly outstanding business strategy. Really putting your degree to good use,” he muttered, and Hwitaek beamed, trilling out a _thank you_.

Hongseok let his gaze travel across the dance floor, past Shinwon and their friends, over Hyunggu and Yuto on their pedestals, and then his eyes landed on another stranger. This one was intriguing. He was occupying a small corner of the dance floor, alone, and thanks to the increased temperature in the bar, he was shirtless, the black ink of a few tattoos standing out against his honey colored skin and bleached blonde, messy, just this side of too long hair. Hongseok watched him dance. He was pulling out some impressive moves, his motions robotic and fluid by turns, and Hongseok wondered why nobody was paying attention to him. He wanted to, kind of. Then he remembered all the eye candy just above where the stranger danced, and he understood.

Shinwon had always liked being a go-go boy, mostly for the attention. They were gods up there on those pedestals, dancing for the mortals below. The crowd watched them rapturously, and there was always a fight at the end of the night over who would take them home. Hongseok understood. He knew Shinwon wasn’t disappointed to be with him, that he loved Hongseok just as much as Hongseok loved him, and they’d invited their fair share of guys home after a long night at Lucky’s. But he also knew all the ways that Shinwon missed this, and sometimes, he felt a little twinge of regret on behalf of his boyfriend.

Hwitaek was watching Hongseok watching the unknown guy, and he cleared his throat a moment later. “That’s Hyojong. He just moved to town. He seems nice.”

Just then, Hyojong glanced up and in their direction, almost as if he’d heard them talking. Hongseok thought about looking away. He just...didn’t quite get there, before their eyes met, and Hyojong winked.

Hongseok spun his stool around and tapped his mysteriously empty glass on the bar, even though he knew better than to have another. He was suddenly very thirsty. He didn't even notice that he'd completely forgotten to get Shinwon a drink, but, as it turned out, it didn't really matter.

*

By the time Hongseok found Shinwon again, he was good and sloshed, thanks to the inevitable stream of free drinks he'd already received, swinging around a martini glass filled with something pink and sweet as he gesticulated. He was telling some story that Hongseok was sure he’d told fifty times before to a small crowd of friends and acquaintances. Hongseok cleared his throat and brushed his fingertips against Shinwon’s waist gently, and he not so secretly loved the way that Shinwon’s face melted into a smiling, blushing work of art when he turned to see Hongseok standing there, his admirers all temporarily ignored in favor of his boyfriend.

“Hey, baby…” Shinwon purred, pressing his slender hips to Hongseok’s, and Hongseok was feeling bold enough (read: tipsy enough) to nuzzle his favorite spot, the place where Shinwon’s neck met his shoulder, right there in front of everyone and rumble his voice against Shinwon’s skin.

“Let’s dance, handsome.”

It was universally known that Shinwon wasn’t exactly a great dancer. It was even more universally known that Hongseok was just as bad, but somehow, when they danced together, it worked. As awkward as they both were, they knew how to seduce, whether they were doing it to each other, or to everyone else in their line of sight. Shinwon smirked, handed off his drink to Jinho, who flashed him a glance that was equal parts amused and annoyed, but didn’t argue, and he put his hand in Hongseok’s as they walked to the center of the dance floor.

They were three songs in when Yuto jumped off his pedestal in one smooth motion and joined them, and five songs deep when Hyunggu did the same. Before long, Changgu had abandoned his post inside the DJ booth, and they were a mess of too many legs and not enough space, but Hongseok loved it, despite his halfhearted determination to do just the opposite. There was something special about this, about being in this place. He could see that Shinwon felt the same, and it made Hongseok smile, and laugh, and dance even harder, even though he was already doing too much, and he was sure none of it was really working.

A few more songs passed in a haze, and Hongseok was just about completely lost in the music and the night and the feeling of Shinwon’s arms around him, making sure they stayed lost in each other, when the sounds of shouting hit his ears.

Across the club, Hongseok could vaguely make out the silhouettes of two figures, one impossibly tall and one not so much. The tall one was also the one yelling, and moreover, he was currently crouched into some sort of kung fu stance that Hongseok had only seen in action movies, his leg raised and his foot out towards the shorter party. Behind Hongseok, Hyunggu snickered.

“That guy’s been trying to hit on Tall, Mysterious and Chinese all night. He’s been pretty atrociously aggressive about it, much to the dismay of his actual boyfriend, as far as I can tell. It’s easy to observe from above everyone. Guess he’s getting his answer, finally,” he murmured, leaning against Yuto with a grin as Yuto wrapped one arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer.

Hongseok shook his head in disbelief, a little smile playing on his lips. “ _Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more, Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea and one on shore, To one thing constant never_ ,” he quoted, and he could practically feel Shinwon rolling his eyes at his side as Changgu stopped dancing completely and stared at him openmouthed, baffled by the words sliding easily off his tongue, because he was so used to saying them, lately. They’d been falling on deaf ears for weeks, thanks to his students, and so Hongseok felt right at home as he took in Changgu’s blank expression.

Shinwon extracted himself from Hongseok’s embrace and clicked his tongue. “Babe, for what _has_ to be the literal hundredth time, _nobody gets your Shakespeare references._ ”

Hongseok had been about to respond when a soft throat-clearing sounded behind them.

“I do. ”

Hongseok whirled around to find Hyojong standing a few feet back, smirking and slouching to one side, one hand in the pocket of his sinfully well-fitting jeans. Shinwon eyed him with interest. Hongseok wasn’t really catching up as fast, he was just sort of standing there, actually, gaping and standing and not talking, when Hwitaek appeared behind him, just a little too far into Hongseok’s personal space, as per usual.

“Hyojong. This is Hongseok and his boyfriend Shinwon. Hongseokkie was just drooling over you not too long ago, at the bar. Discuss.” With that, Hwitaek clapped Hongseok on the back and left quickly, nearly making it past their little group, but he wasn’t quite fast enough to avoid Hongseok reaching out and flailing one hand at his rapidly retreating back, catching Hwitaek with about half a slap before Hongseok gave up and stared at the floor. Shinwon was probably still staring at Hyojong, sizing him up, trying to figure out how to break him down.

A few more silent seconds flew by, in which Hongseok was desperately trying to think of something to say, something to erase Hwitaek’s commentary from the record, when Hyojong continued.

“ _I can see he’s not in your good books._ ”

Hongseok chuckled. It seemed Hyojong knew more than enough of Shakespeare to get any reference Hongseok was capable of throwing out. He bit his lip, then let a smile spread over his face as he regarded Hyojong and answered.

“ _No, and if he were, I would burn my library._ ”

Hongseok felt nearly gleeful as he looked up at Shinwon, and his boyfriend was already grinning back at him, alternating between that and appreciative glances towards Hyojong that were probably half aimed at his extreme shirtlessness, and half gratefulness that he was bringing Hongseok further out of his shell. Hongseok jabbed a finger in Hyojong’s direction.

“He gets my references.”

He reached out and took Hyojong’s hand, and Hyojong let him, let Hongseok pull him into the spell the night had them under. Y’know. The night, or the two extra large Adios, Motherfuckers he’d had. Whichever.

“He gets my references,” Hongseok repeated, slipping his hand into Hyojong’s back pocket as their new, improved trio began to sway to the beat together. “We’re taking him home at the end of the night.”

Shinwon chuckled, licking his lips and kissing Hyojong’s cheek. “Well, Hyojong? What do you say?”

Hyojong’s own lips parted to answer, and he was already grinning and nodding, but Shinwon spoke again, somehow giving both his companions a wink at the same time.

“ _You are thought here to be the most senseless and fit man for the job._ ”

Maybe no one else got Hongseok’s Shakespeare references, but Shinwon got Hongseok enough to learn every last one, and just then, that was more than enough for all three of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Scream with me over Pentagon on [Tumblr.](http://bulletproof-bad-writing.tumblr.com)


End file.
